The Shadow of the Dragonborn
by Dragon1205
Summary: About 20 years after the events of Skyrim, the Second Great War continues with no end in sight. With the Thalmor completely annihilating all opposition, Ahmes strives to find the missing Dragonborn in hopes of defeating the Thalmor's most powerful weapon, The Shadow.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Three Letters Backwards

The sky was covered by dark clouds as rain fell harshly onto the cold earth below. No sunlight broke through and the land was covered by darkness. Even though it was daytime, the blacken sky could be mistaken as night. The smell of death perfumed the air and enflamed the nostrils of those who dared take a good sniff. The sounds of the wagon broke Ahmes from his trance. He looked around frantically, forgetting where he was for a moment. Ahmes heard the man from his right cough and shudder from the cold before attempting to hide himself in his blanket for warmth. Ahmes could start to smell the copper smell of blood even with the rain's attempt to blind his senses. Ahmes could tell they were close, as the wagons were starting to slow down. In front were various men atop different types of horses. Some born for battle, others, to work in the fields.

"Hey kid, don't suppose you gotta match on ya?" The old man sitting across Ahmes asked in a rough voice. Ahmes shook his head as the older man cursed his luck before turning back to Ahmes.

"So what ya here for kid," The old man asked, leaning forward in interest, causing a loud creak to echo throughout the wagon. Ahmes shook his head as the old man's eyebrow rose and his face became written with confusion and slight frustration. For weeks the old man had been trying to get Ahmes to talk, but Ahmes had never been the talking type of person. He just found talking to always end up him saying something stupid and embarrassing, and found social interaction to almost become a chore. He had trouble making friends growing up, and would often be made fun of for his shyness.

"Do you remember why you're here?" the old man asked with a small smirk. Ahmes shook his head again, lying for his own personal amusement.

"Is that all you do? Shake your head?" the old man asked. Ahmes looked up in thought for a moment and shook his head again. The old man laughed heartily, Ahmes smirked along and eventually made a small chuckle as the old man continued to roar with laughter. Ahmes was happy to see someone laugh even in this rotten landscape. Ahmes was a young man, turning 18 a mere month ago. His hair was black and messy spreading out wildly atop his head, covering his pale blue eyes. Ahmes had been sitting in this wagon for about a week now, and he would usually get lost in his own little world to pass the time. A few weeks ago, he set out on his own adventure after soldiers from the empire came to his home town and asked for any volunteers for the war effort against the Thalmor. Ahmes, seeking out adventure was one of the very few who volunteered. His mother was completely against it, everyone knew that those who left for the war almost never returned. Ahmes' father volunteered a few years back, telling Ahmes to look after his mother, and that he would be back soon. Ahmes knew now that that was the first lie his father ever told him. Ahmes still till this day couldn't reason as to why his old man went out into duty in the first place, maybe it was to help with the cause, or maybe it was because a friend of his was going too. Ahmes didn't know, he could only speculate.

Those who partook in the 2nd Great War were almost never veteran soldiers. Soldiers of the Empire we beginning to lose all hope for the war, and any chance of defeating the Thalmor's oppression. They believed it to be a lost cause. Now, mostly criminals and a very few amount of volunteers took part in the war. Every so often, a foolish noble would take part in the war only to die like the rest and return in a body bag, if at all. When Ahmes first decided to go for the Thalmor War, he thought of it as a big adventure, the boy believed that he would be the one of the few to survive the battles and make his mark on the world, bragging away to the other boys in his village. Half way through the journey, he realized just how foolish that naïve dream was. No one came out the battlefield alive for a reason, he thought. There were stories people told of the Shadow, the most dangerous weapon of the Thalmor. He didn't particularly knew what made the Shadow so terrifying, but it was enough to be used as a scary story to tell to children when they misbehaved. He had heard rumors that some did survive the war, and tell stories to the people of the danger of the Shadow, but rumors were all they were meant to be and some never took them seriously. The wagon made a complete stop, as word spread to the men that they were going to start the journey on foot. The soldiers and criminals hopped off the wagon and collected their weapons and little armor they had, many grunting and cursing on the way down. Ahmes was confused, why stop now? Was there any Thalmor scouts nearby? Were they setting up camp?

The walk to the final stretch of the journey was going to last for a few hours, which made Ahmes internally groan and swear. The groups started to line up like an unorganized army and walked forward with three veteran soldiers atop armored horses leading the way. Each veteran faked bravery and their dirty armor hiding their shaking bodies. Ahmes noticed a man squeezing an amulet of Talos against his chest and praying silently. The men around him bore stone hard faces that knew of their imminent demise. Ahmes realized he was most likely the youngest of the group, which gave him a chilling felling. Some men behind Ahmes started to guess on what lied just in the distance that could possibly be so dangerous that stories claimed no one ever came back alive.

"Why do you think we started moving on foot?" A solider asked another,

"Maybe it is a dragon, and the general wants to be discreet" one of the men guessed.

The other man scoffed, "Last time a dragon had been seen was a few years ago, ever since the Dragonborn slayed most of them, dragons have been scarcely heard of since. Even then, do you really think going on foot will keep us hidden? A dragon could probably spot us a mile away" He explained.

"Well what do you think it is?" The first man responded. The other man looked up and placed his hand to his face, stroking his beard.

"Perhaps it is because the scouts saw a Thalmor camp. It would make sense for us to be order to get on foot to prepare for battle. Although that does still seem odd," He stated as the small army continued to march onward. Ahmes stopped walking for a moment until the person behind him bumped into him and berated him to keep moving. Ahmes had wondered about the Hunt for a long time now, and realized that there were some things about this impossible mission that seemed off to him. How was it the commanders leading this band of rapists, thieves, and volunteers know where the Thalmor were in the in first place? Could there really have been scouts sighting of Thalmor camp? He thought that there was very few amount of able men here, how would it possible for a scout not be spotted. Especially with the Thalmor's superior magic, it would be almost impossible to get out of there alive. None of this made sense to him, but he realized many of his questions would be answered soon, but he was worried that he might not be able to live to tell the tale. As the army treaded forward nervously, Ahmes could start to smell the copper scent of blood becoming too unbearable to breathe in. He hid the bottom half of his face under his ragged shirt in order to avoid the stench of rotten flesh and dried blood. Some men followed the same action as others began to cough uncontrollably from the thick air. The rain had helped hide the stench slightly, but even then the smell was too strong for most of them. The trees around them had become distorted and old, covered in ash and red stains. Piles of bones and armor littered the ground around them, almost as if a large battle took place there. Some of them started to pray more loudly while others tried to keep their gaze forward, away from the countless dead bodies. The makeshift army had marched in the graveyard for what seemed like an eternity until the commander up front raised his hand and the small army halted. Ahmes was near the front lines now, and he could see a small cave in the distance. The commander shouted for all the men to take arms as everyone unsheathed their swords and bows. Most of which were broken and rusted swords. Ahmes could almost even spot a few mages in the mix.

The group slowly moved to the front of the cave carefully, as if a single sound will unleash the hell inside. Small beads of sweat ran down Ahmes' face as he tried to look into the cave, but could only see complete darkness. He had half expected legions of spiders to run out and devour them all, but only the cold wind escaped the cave. As they stood only a few feet away from the entrance, black crows flew high above the cave, waiting for their next feast to present itself. Ahmes looked intently inside the small cave from where he stood and held his breathe. The storm began to become harsher as lightning painted the sky in its white light. From the flash of lightning, Ahmes could see what awaited them inside, for only a second. A small figure sat within the small cave and droplets of water fell to the ground with wet splats. Mud around it was a mixture of brown and red, ripples spreading throughout it from each drop. Ahmes could make out black armor sitting inside the dark hole that moved up in down steadily with each breathe. It's breathing was ragged and sounded more animal-like than human. It held a long black broadsword pointed downward to the ground sitting lazily atop his shoulder. The armor was sinister looking and had an evil aura around it, each piece covered in blood. Its leg tucked under the other while its other leg had its knee up, in almost a half crisscrossed pose. Red eyes glowed inside its black helm that promised death and destruction to all that drew near. A black cape hung loosely on its back, raggedly flowing in the small amount of wind it received. The blade in its armored hand was black, with red outlines and inscriptions decorating it, making a sinister design. Its gauntlet shaped like claws, with each end of its fingers tipped in red, dried blood. A single red thread hung from the top of the helm that flowed to the side. The most terrifying feature was the small wisps of darkness that danced around it, somewhat hiding its image while creating a sense of an unstoppable shadow. Inside the cave, was only a single person…The Shadow.

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I dont own anything, Elder Scrolls is owned by Bethesda.

Hey, this is my first fanfiction. There is one thing I would like to make perfectly clear. I don't intend to really finish this story. I had actually already wrote the first 20 or so chapters, and i'll be updating them as I go and edit them. However, I am usually very busy with school, work, and other stuff, so don't expect me to update regularly. When i finally reach to where I was when I wrote this, I will most likely post a chapter detailing everything that i planned to happen in the story. However, if i get a spark, or I get less busy for some reason, by that time, I might try to get back into the story. The main purpose for me putting this up on Fanfiction is so someone can read it and continue the story for me. I actually do want to see the story finished, so my main goal is for anyone to pick up the story from where i am that can either rewrite the whole thing, but keep the major plot and story elements (which I wouldnt perfer) or for someone to continue the story where i leave off. I also want to point out that the best way to imagine what the Shadow looks like, is a mix between Berserker (from Fate/Zero) and the Berserker Armor (from Berserk), but it takes more after Fate Zero Berserker. Anyways, enjoy what I have and I left some clues in the story for future spoilers. Some are obvious, some are not, try and to figure them out, it'd be cool to see people find them out.


	2. Chapter 2

To anyone reading this fic, I am just gonna put a Trigger warning here. This particular chapter isn't that bad, but I would like to put this here, cause future chapters will most likely need a Trigger warning.

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Chapter 2: Hell

Slowly, the figure rose from its spot and walked out the cave with its black sword dragged through the bloodied dirt. The group backed away in fear of the intimidating creature as it stared blankly back at them. The creature raised its head to the sky and stared into the clouds as rain fell onto its helmet. Ahmes had foolishly hoped for a moment that maybe it was an ally and that it wasn't the Shadow, like he had feared. He had realized that was only another naïve thought as the eyes within the helm intensified with a blood red hue. It began to roar a sickening scream that echoed throughout the area. Many of the men covered their ears while the other half stood there in fear, some could only watch while fear shook their legs. The commander raised his sword into the air and stroke down, signaling the motion to attack as he screamed with a hint of fear and desperation in his voice, "Kill that thing! That monster!" the army began to roar and charge at the beast, using only their fear to move them forward. Prepared to fight to the death, and kill the dark armored monster. Within a single moment, the black beast looked forward to the army before it, and swung its sword at the crowd. Multiple men fell backwards from the hurricane like slash, bodies cut in half from the sheer might of the monster's blade. The army kept charging forward, hoping to knock the creature off its feet, but it continued to slash continuously as more men died before Ahmes' young eyes. Ahmes tried to rationalize the fear that had started to cloud his mind. Ahmes had never before seen a man die. He had seen the corpses of loved ones that had passed on, but never seen men get literally cut in half before his eyes. Screams of pain and fear echoed throughout the battlefield as the black knight hacked and slashed through countless men. Soon, the sky began to rain both blood and water. Ahmes had gotten closer and closer to his impending doom, as more men were slaughtered like pigs around him.

So, this is war, Ahmes thought before the black monster leapt next to him. Red eyes meeting blue for only a moment until the armored figure punched Ahmes aside with his arm, almost as if he was a mere fly. The force of the hit was so strong that Ahmes was knocked back several feet backward and into a pile of corpses. Ahmes' had hit his head against the chest plate of one of the dead commanders. Everything had become fuzzier and his sight was beginning to fade into blackness. Screams had started to completely surround him and become muffled until his eyes were forced shut into unconsciousness.

Ahmes had awaked to the sounds of metal clashing on metal. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself under a corpse that reeked with blood and sweat. He had hoped that maybe he was in a nightmare and that he would wake up to live out another average day back home. He mentally cursed at himself for thinking that this was a dream, dreams never carry the smell of death with them. He looked up and realized the rain had stopped and a thick fog covered the whole area. Every so often he would hear a scream and a thump on the cold ground. No doubt another soldier, slaughtered like an animal. Every second passing, the sounds of battle inched closer, almost foreshadowing the end. Ahmes' heart began to pound in his chest, fearing that he would be the next to die. The sound of metal thrashing past armor screeched so loud that Ahmes had to cover his ears. Each passing second felt like an eternity, as more screaming and clashing metal filled the sky. Soon after, he heard a loud thump land in front of him as he closed his eyes tight in fear. When he opened his eyes again, panic began to overtake him as he put his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. If he screamed, he would die. In front of him was a young woman whose brown hair spread out down her back with beautiful green eyes that almost seemed lifeless. Atop her head was an iron helm with horns protruding on both sides with a few strands of her brown hair poking out from under it. If Ahmes had met this woman in a different situation he wouldn't be surprised if he would've been smitten by her beauty. But what made him so afraid was the blood that decorated her forehead and the almost lifeless eyes that stared at him. He was about to check if the woman was alive until he noticed her shallow breathing that was shown from cold air. Her eyes had become lifeless into panic and fear within a moment as she tried to reach out to Ahmes. He could tell that words were trying to form from her mouth, but nothing could escape her lips. Instead, he could only faintly tell what she wanted to say by reading her blood stained lips.

 _Help me,_ he could read. His heart began to speed up more as her plea had registered into his mind. He extended his hand out to the young woman, fingers about to touch one another. He could almost feel the woman's shaking hand until a loud metallic bang exploded before him. He then closed his ears and eyes in fear again and retracted his hand away as if her hand would be hot to the touch.

A moment later, Ahmes opened his eyes and saw a metallic, black boot in front of him. He noticed that the floor had become splattered with blood and iron. The head of the pleading woman completely destroyed from the force of the stomp. He followed his gaze up the boot and was met with red eyes bearing down at him. Ahmes was about to scream, but the fear had stopped him from doing anything. All he could do was stare up at the black knight that had just stomped someone's head in with little to no effort. A black gauntlet had reached for him and slowly raised him up into the air by his neck, choking him. Ahmes began to struggle within the monster's grip, but the knight was too strong for Ahmes to release himself. The black knight slowly rose his sword up and pointed it towards Ahmes' face. The sword moved forward little by little each passing second. Ahmes' face began to pale as he soon realized that this demon was going to take his time murdering him. The black blade poked his cheek ever so slightly, only to break the skin. He had heard that your life flashed before your eyes before you die, but all he could see was the littered bodies all around them. The black blade's tip had started to dig ever so slightly into his cheek. He though it was over until a whistle flew through the air and bounced off the black knight's shoulder blade. The demon turned around to find the old man that Ahmes had laughed with before with a Nordic bow aimed at the black beast.

"Over here you son of a bitch," the old man said with a faint smile as the monster let go of Ahmes and casually walked toward the old man.

"What are you doing?!" Ahmes asked frantically as he started to cough for air. The old man smiled from finally being able to make the young man talk.

"You shouldn't be here kid, you're too young to throw your life away to this…this monster," the old man explained as he fired more arrows at the black knight, only to have them deflected by its black sword or bounce harmlessly off its armor. The berserker had moved at an inhuman speed and was instantly in front of the old man. The old man attempted to block the sword with his bow, but the blade cut through the bow and his arm as if it were made of paper. The old man screamed in agony before being held up by the neck by the armored demon and had its sword pointed at his face, similar to the position Ahmes was only moments before. The old man struggled to breathe as he looked towards Ahmes before whispering in a hoarse voice.

"Run." Ahmes had snapped himself out of his fear induced paralysis, and did just that. He dared not to look back and sprinted as fast as he could. He had almost tripped countless times over the dead bodies that littered the ground. Blood had been spilt everywhere, and it had even been splattered on Ahmes' face. He tried to run as fast as he could, his legs were screaming from the strain he had been putting them in. A loud sickening roar, no doubt the berserker, echo throughout the fog. Ahmes only continued to sprint forward blindly through the fog for his life. He could hear the loud stomping of the metallic boots smash into the ground come closer in a sprint, knowing the demon was after him. He could hear moans of the dying on the ground below him, some begging to die, others simply wanting their mothers. Ahmes tried his best to ignore them and focused on trying to run. As Ahmes started to notice the fog lessen as he moved forward, a sense of relief began to overtake him. He might just live, he might actually survive. His thoughts of relief were interrupted as a black blade made contact with his back. The cut was deep enough for Ahmes to scream out in pain, but not enough to stop him from moving. Eventually the sound of the demon following him had become faint and Ahmes could see clearly, as if there was no fog to being with. His sprinting had slowed down to a painful jog and finally ended when he fell over to the ground exhausted. He finally was able to get away from the monster within the fog, he began to laugh as he realized that he was going to live, but soon that laughter had morphed into full out sobs as he recalled what had just happened. He sat up into his knees and continuously smashed the ground over and over as he wailed into the night. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him and he landed on his face into the cold hard dirt. His eyes shut themselves again from exhaustion as the day had finally caught up to him. Sleep began to take over and his nightmares became plagued by the demon that had killed a little more than a hundred people within the span of a few hours.

Pexalt cliiltp abxqe

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Hey, I was able to post the second chapter! I am just gonna repeat this again, just in case. I already wrote all the chapters. The only thing that would take time to post each chapter would be editing, and adding stuff to make it better. I also wanted to take this opportunity to give any TRIGGER Warnings to anyone reading this. This story is gonna have alot of stuff that needs a Trigger Warning, but there is no doubt I am most likely gonna forget that in the future when really bad stuff happens. So, to those reading this, if you dont want to read anything that can Trigger you. Then don't read this, there is alot more stuff in this story that are way worse in this chapter. Like, WAY worse. So please keep that in mind, just in case i dont give any warnings in the future.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Enter Riverwood

Ahmes had awoke with a groan and quickly realized that he was no longer lying on the ground, but within a small cabin with a warm blanket on the lower half of his body. He immediately looked down and noticed that his shirt was gone and his upper body had been covered in bandages. He tried to sit up but a hand gripped his shoulder and forced him back down. He was startled by the presence of another person, but was immediately hushed as the person spoke.

"Hey now, it's all right. Just lie down. I will tell Alvor that you have awoken," said the voice. Ahmes noticed through the softness and feminine voice, he could immediately tell that the voice belonged to a woman. Her voice seemed to belong to someone much older than himself though, as he could hear the faint trace of age through the voice's softness. He tried to get a better look of the figure that had walked out the room, but the candles inside weren't bright enough to see clearly. A few moments later, loud footsteps calmly passed through the door, and Ahmes could tell a man had sat in the chair beside him now.

"Good thing we have found ya, boy. You looked like you were seconds away from death's door when my daughter and her friend brought you here," The masculine voice said. Ahmes tried to form words but he realized that his throat was incredibly dry, and his voice had become raspy and painful to talk.

"Where am I?" he asked as the woman walked back into the room and handed a small wooden cup to Ahmes.

"Riverwood, my daughter, Dorthe, and her friend, Frodnar, found you lying on the ground half dead when they were hunting for food. They brought you back here as soon as they could and we got a couple doctors here to patch ya up." Ahmes recognized the name Riverwood, the village rested on the eastern bank of the White River, in the Whiterun Hold. He had attempted to memorize the Skyrim maps he had when he was a young boy, and he spent most of his time learning about all the places he wanted to go adventures on when he got older. He realized that he wasn't far from Helgen. After drinking from the cup, he realized that they had given him water to help his dry throat. He sat up slowly in the bed and got a closer look of the two people who helped him recover from his injuries. The man sitting on the chair was old; he guessed that he was probably in his sixties. The man's white hair and beard was somewhat scraggly, and he had tired brown eyes with a hard looking face that no doubt have seen many things. The woman had a light brownish color to her hair with small wrinkles and crow's feet decorating around her eyes. Her eyes were the same color as the man's and her face gave a look for concern for the young man.

"My name is Alvor and this is my wife, Sigrid," he said as her hand rested on his shoulder. "Dorthe will be back soon, we should try to set up dinner and make room for our guest," Sigrid said as Alvor nodded in agreement.

"Don't go anywhere, we don't want your wounds to open up now, do we?" he asked in a half threatening tone as the two stood and made way to the other room. Ahmes lay back down as he remembered what had transpired last time he was awake.

 _How long have I been out? Were there any other survivors? Just what was that thing?_ These unanswerable questions floated around his mind until his train of thought had been interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

"Mother! Father! I'm home!" a feminine voice yelled,

"Frodnar and I were chasing after a huge elk, but a frost troll got to it first, you should've seen it!" The voice explained as Ahmes heard her walk through the house. Sigrid's voice could be heard throughout the house,

"Dorthe! Back home just in time! We already set the table for dinner," Sigrid replied.

"Wait, mother, the table has been set for 4 people. Has he woken up?" Dorthe asked with a hopeful tone.

"Yes, he is awake and in the other room now, don't try to startle him. He only woke up a little while ago," she explained to the young woman. Dorthe had almost sprinted to the room where Ahmes laid. As she entered the room, Ahmes noticed her light brown hair whip around to the side. She sat in the chair beside Ahmes and looked down at him.

"Are you alright? You were badly injured when we found you," she said with concern in her voice. Ahmes noticed that this young woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, and that a war hammer rested on her back. She was not the most beautiful woman Ahmes had ever encountered, but she was definitely attractive. War paint was found on her cheeks and black eyeliner was around her eyes. Light brown eyes looked into blue ones for a moment before she looked away, embarrassed for staring. Ahmes lifted his legs slowly to the side of the bed, and attempted to stand but the severities of his injuries made him cry out in pain and fall backward on the bed. Dorthe reached out for the young man and helped him get on his feet.

"Yes, I am alright. Thank you," Ahmes said as he forced the pain away. Dorthe placed Ahmes' arm on her shoulders and helped Ahmes sit down at the kitchen table. Ahmes nodded and gave his thanks as he waited for food to be served. Across from him sat Alvor, and Dorthe took a seat to his right. A few seconds later, Sigrid entered with small plates of venison in each hand. She went back and forth and eventually the table was set. Only small amounts of food sat on the plates, but Ahmes didn't mind. Little food was better than none.

"My apologies, we would have more if Dorthe caught dinner for us this morning," Sigrid said as Dorthe shot a small glare at her mother,

"I told you, the frost troll got to it first!" she whined. Ahmes began to eat as the two women bantered for a little while until Alvor spoke up,

"What is your name young man?" he asked while the attention of the two woman turned to Ahmes.

"My name is Ahmes sir," he said shyly as he tried to look at anything other than the other people in the room. Alvor took a bite from his venison,

"Tell me, Ahmes, why exactly were you on the ground, covered in blood and half dead in the middle of nowhere?" Alvor asked as he continued to chew on his dinner. Ahmes was reluctant to tell them, worried that they might not believe him, but he realized that all he could offer was only the truth,

"I had come from the war," he said as silence spread throughout the table. The family stared at him as if he had three heads. "No one survives the war, and gets to tell the tale about it," Dorthe explained as her eyes widen from the fact that she sat in front of an enigma. Ahmes' eyes stared down to the floor, knowing what they would ask next. "What was it like?" Sigrid asked as she leaned forward in her seat, awaiting Ahmes' answer. Ahmes' eyes became lifeless as he debated whether to tell them what exactly made the Hunt so dangerous. "It was a nightmare. Everyone there had been massacred by it. I would've died to if it weren't for someone giving up his life to save mine," tears threatened to fall down his face. "I didn't even learn their names, and now…they're gone. Every last one of them slaughtered, by that _thing!_ " He said with venom in his voice.

"What are you talking about? What thing?" Dorthe asked, afraid to hear the answer. Ahmes made a long sigh, not really sure how to explain,

"I don't really know what it was. It wore armor, black as night. The strength of its blade could cut down three men at the same time. Its eyes were blood red," he recalled as memories of the monster resurfaced. His heart sped up as he remembered every detail of it, as if he were looking at it as he talked about it, "It was faster, stronger, and angrier than anything I have ever seen. It even took its time killing people at the end, stabbing them slowly enough for them to feel the most excruciating pain," He stopped as the red eyes of his nightmare stared back at him through his memories. Fear gripped his heart and his body shook. Alvor reached across the table and touched his shoulder in comfort.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell us the rest." He said. Ahmes breathed a sigh a relief he didn't know he held in. He truly didn't want to remember it all again, he wanted nothing to do with that nightmare ever again. "May I ask something? Why choose to partake in the war? Surely you know it is a death sentence," Sigrid asked.

"It was either that, or stay at home and read books for the rest of my life. When I first decided to take part in the war, I thought it would be an adventure, that I would be fine. I didn't want to partake in a war that I didn't think I was a part of, but it became personal. My father went off to fight in the war when I was younger. Maybe I wanted to find or avenge him, maybe the unknown excited me…I don't know," Ahmes explained as he placed his palm to the side of his head. His appetite had been lost, and a small headache began to form in his mind. He remembered when Imperial soldiers came to his village and tried to get men to sign up to fight for the Second Great War against the Thalmor. The Second Great War had been going on a few years after the Empire had won against the Stormcloaks. With the Empire returning to power in Skyrim, an all-out campaign against the Thalmor had begun. The war had been going on for as long Ahmes could remember, and it had no signs of stopping anytime soon. And as the war raged on longer, the fewer amount of knights and good men were sent to fight. Seeing as the war was a lost cause, many nobles from the empire had no reason to send an able body army to fight a pointless slaughter. The most amounts of people sent to the War were only a mere hundred or so, most of which were rapists and thieves, with only a few good men leading it. When growing up, your choices were The Second Great War, live a boring farmer life, living off crops alone if weather permit, or to try your luck in the wilderness alone. He remembered many boys his age signing up and going to war, only to return as corpses. Ahmes didn't really think the war was really his problem. He never really knew any Thalmor, and he hated politics. All he ever cared about was the adventure he had been dreaming of. Ahmes stood up from his seat with pain running through his legs and upper body.

"I'm sorry, I have lost my appetite," he said sadly as he walked out into the night. He sat down on the porch in front of him, and Ahmes looked up at the night sky. The two moons above captivated him. He heard a door open behind him as Dorthe sat next to him.

"I'm sorry you had to talk about all of that," she said with an apologetic tone. Ahmes waved her off,

"It's okay, I would've asked too. It's not every day you find someone half dead on the ground. I am thankful you brought me in and helped me recover," He said with a smile. Dorthe turned away and smiled widely,

"Well, it's what anyone else in my position would do, and besides, Frodnar was the one who carried you back, not me," she said with modesty. Ahmes looked up in thought,

"I suppose so, either way, thank you," he said smiling again. Dorthe smiled back before looking up at the night sky,

"Beautiful night we have," she said, admiring the sight of the night sky above her. Ahmes looked up and remembered the monster that almost killed him. He found it harder to find things beautiful now that he knew that demon still walks the earth. Ahmes made an inner vow that he would get revenge for his fallen comrades one day.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Days at Riverwood

Metal had clashed with metal while Ahmes looked onward from his chair, awaiting Dorthe to finish her next creation. Alvor had given Ahmes some of his old clothes to wear, since Ahmes' had been covered in blood and dirt. It had been several days since Ahmes awoke from his long sleep, and he had been recovering at a very fast pace. When Ahmes had asked for advice on what he should do next, Alvor recommended the young man to go out and tell the Jarl of Whiterun, Jarl Frothar son of Balgruuf, of his experience with the war, and see what to do then. When Ahmes said that he would go and venture to Whiterun, Dorthe said she would go to the forge and make Ahmes something to help him in his travels. Dorthe had been famous throughout Riverwood to be one of the best blacksmith for miles, maybe even the best of all Skyrim. She took after her father, who made a living as a blacksmith, and she was a natural at it.

When she told Ahmes about her next masterpiece would be for him, he was honored by the gesture and initially didn't know what to say. He had asked her if he needed to pay any coin for it, but she had declined, stating that they were friends now, and friends did this for each other. Ahmes had spent most of his time learning the names and faces of those at Riverwood, especially those who had helped him recover in the first place.

The day after Ahmes had awoke from his sleep, he had met Frodnar. At first Ahmes thought Frodnar was a decent young man who seemed to be around the same age as Dorthe, but he soon became very irritating when Dorthe had helped feed Ahmes in bed rest. They had butted heads ever since. Ahmes was no fool, he could tell that Frodnar was jealous of Ahmes, and was in love with Dorthe. Everyone in the village except Dorthe could see it, and Ahmes had told Frodnar in private that he had no intention of stealing Dorthe away from him. Frodnar seemed to have warmed up to Ahmes a bit when he told him that, but even still, he decided to irritate Ahmes any time he had gotten any attention from Dorthe. Frodnar's dog, Stump, seemed to like Ahmes instantly and would spend many days simply lying aside Ahmes' chair, which would irritate Frodnar to no end. Stump was a very old dog, and many of the people of Riverwood were surprised the dog was still around, wasn't often a dog would live as long as Stump did.

For the past couple of days, hunting for the small village had been difficult. Every time people would go out hunting for food for their families, a frost troll would get in the way and kill the animal before hunters could get a good shot at it. Eventually, a hunting party had formed in order to kill the troll stealing all of their game. However, every time they would go after it, it would always run away or fight back; injuring many who dare attack it. In the distance, hunters would sit in a small circle, strategizing a way to kill the troll and get food for their families. Frodnar and Dorthe would sometimes partake in these small meetings and hunts, but in their free time, they would continue their daily activities. Like Dorthe making Ahmes her next masterpiece and Frodnar playing with the children. Ahmes had been watching the two out of boredom and eventually decided to try moving around on his own. Now that his wounds have healed, moving around had become much easier. Ahmes had only exerted himself when he tried to run or swing a sword to the point where he felt excruciating pain.

Ahmes had walked to Dorthe's forge and tried to get a peek at what exactly she had in store for him.

"You know, you shouldn't be walking around while recovering. Especially when it involves trying to ruin your surprise," she said while not taking her eyes off of her work. Ahmes made a small smile as he watched Dorthe hammer away at the metal.

"Well, there is really not much to do around here except trying to recover faster, which ends up with me getting hurt, or talking to you. I think I would rather go with the idea of not hurting myself for no good reason," he laughed as Dorthe made a small smile, still focusing on her work.

"Why don't you go help my mother wash the clothes, or help father and the hunters find a way to kill that _stupid_ frost troll?" she asked. Ahmes shrugged before turning around and lean on a nearby wooden pillar.

"Don't know, I guess I'm not really a fan of cleaning or finding ways to kill something," he said half-jokingly. He saw Frodnar playing with the children of the village and smiled as he grew a new found respect for the young man. Ahmes had always had a soft spot for kids, but he was always too shy to ever talk to almost anyone back home. He was always afraid someone had told the children how much of an introvert he was, and was always afraid that the children would call him a weirdo or a creep.

"Why not? I bet the men here would love to hear what your brilliant strategic mind had to say," Dorthe said sarcastically.

"Y'know, I _am_ pretty smart, I just can't use a bow for my life, and I'm not that great with a sword either," Ahmes said as he turned back to Dorthe who had been wiping sweat off her brow to take a break. She walked past Ahmes and grabbed hold of his wrist. He was beginning to protest and whine as she dragged him across the village and plopped him down next to the men planning to take down the troll.

"Well, if you are so smart, tell them what you think they should do," she said in a joking tone, condemning Ahmes to humiliation. The rest of the villagers men stared at Ahmes as Ahmes tried to fight off the initial embarrassment of all eyes on him. He looked at the ground before him, and noticed the lines of dirt they had made. He couldn't tell what exactly they have been planning based on the lines, but he could tell that they have been getting nowhere based on the look of frustration on their faces. Ahmes began to think while the others stared at him. Multiple ideas began to sprout in Ahmes' mind, and he took one more quick look at the drawings in the dirt before talking.

"Well, frost trolls are typically found in snowy areas in the north. Which is a little strange in this part of Skyrim, and they are usually found in caves. The nearest cave is only a few miles, so it is most likely to be in one of those, but it's hard to figure out which exact cave is the right one. Our best bet in luring it is to give it some bait. Some venison might do the trick, but chances are that it might not work. They have long muscular arms with claw tipped fingers, so getting to it at close range is a bad idea, unless we corner it and all attack it at once. But that is too risky. Although they are strong, they aren't relatively fast, so keeping our distance is our best bet. Their major weakness seems to be fire, so the best option is to use fire magic to take it out. But there aren't any mages around, so we can probably tip out arrows in fire, and that _might_ work. I would probably hit it in its middle eye first, since the eyes will disorient it and the middle eye is the easiest to hit. From there I would try to surround it and fire flame tipped arrows to finish it off," he said leaving himself completely winded after his speech. The rest of the group stared at him as they thought about what he said. Many of their faces grew smiles as they realized that Ahmes' plan might work. They all started to laugh and come into agreement that that was the best course of action to attempt next. Alvor had slung his arm over Ahmes' shoulders and then proceeded to pat the boy in the back with a lot of force. Ahmes' face had turned red from the attention he was receiving and was glad that he could help. Many of the men suggested Ahmes go with them to hunt the frost troll, but Dorthe argued that Ahmes was still recovering from his injuries. Alvor told her that Ahmes had been walking around just fine for the past few days, and that was enough to go hunting. At first, Ahmes had been reluctant to go with them, but he eventually gave in and Alvor was happy to know Ahmes was coming along.

Later that evening, Ahmes and the men of the village had made way into the outskirts around Riverwood. Dorthe decided to stay by Ahmes since she thought he would need someone to look out for him. One of the men eventually spotted the troll, and everyone pulled out their bows. Ahmes became nervous since he knew he was terrible at firing a bow and would most likely miss and embarrass himself. Frodnar had been acclaimed to be the best archer in Riverwood, so it was decided that he would be the one to make the first shot and shoot at the frost troll's middle eye. Seconds felt like hours as the frost troll feasted on a dear that had been wandering around Skyrim at the wrong place and the wrong time. Frodnar slowly cocked his arrow back and started to breathe slowly, trying to center and focus his shot. The beast had finally looked up from a small noise the bow made from being pulled back and Frodnar fired. The beast's head immediately pulled back from the pain of its middle eye being pierced by the arrow as more men fired their flame tipped arrows at the frost troll. The troll began to get angry and punch the ground wildly. It then ran at a random direction in a wild frenzy, hoping it would escape. Unfortunately, that direction just so happened to be where Ahmes was standing. The beast sprinted forward, not caring what it ran over in its way. Many of the hunters decided to jump out of the way, so they wouldn't get mulled by the beast. Dorthe had moved to the left alongside the hunters, but Ahmes could only stand in fear as the beast charged at him. Memories of the black knight rushed into his mind as the image of the troll slowly morphed into the black monster. Although it had been a normal day in the eyes of everyone around him, Ahmes could only see the rain and the lightning that illuminated the area from that day in his fear induced state.

The troll had gotten closer and closer, and Ahmes couldn't move a muscle as his mind's eye showed him the image of a black sword high in the air, ready to kill the last survivor of the prior battle. Dorthe had noticed Ahmes not moving and called out to him, but Ahmes couldn't register what was going on. Rage began to consume him as the memories of the fallen rushed into his mind. The image of the woman whose head was crushed stared at him as he grit his teeth and unsheathed a rusty sword from his hip. He charged forward blindly at the troll, rusty sword in hand, ignoring the pain that echoed throughout his body. The troll raised its large claws, ready to kill Ahmes in a moment's notice. The black knight's arms were above his head in Ahmes' mind as he charged forward and stabbed at the image in front of him. _I will not lose to you again! I am going to kill you! I am going to kill you!_ He chanted in his head over and over as he stabbed at the troll over and over into its chest. After the tenth stab, the troll fell over and lay dead at Ahmes' feet. The men got over their initial shock quickly and started to cheer in victory. Dorthe remained quiet as she watched Ahmes topple over and fall on his back. She immediately rushed over to him and laid him up against her lap. The men continued to cheer as Dorthe stared down at Ahmes in fear. Tears fell down his face as the fear and anger that consumed him left, leaving only the sadness to remain. He couldn't see Dorthe looking down at him; he could only see the black knight's blood gaze through the eyes of its helm. He wanted to scream, but he had lost his voice. Soon, unconsciousness overtook him once again.

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Riverwood Nights

Ahmes had woken up screaming with a bead of sweat running down his brow. He sighed in relief when he realized he was safe. The black knight had plagued his nightmares every night since his encounter with it. Its red eyes, black metal claws, and blade covered in the blood of hundreds. His heart spiked from the memory of it, even spiders didn't terrify him as much as the knight did. He remembered the events that occurred before he fell unconscious and got up from his bed. He slowly scanned the room for life, only to be greeted by the small candle flames and silence. He almost had forgotten what it was like to be in a room alone, missing the feeling of human life around him. He quickly realized no one was in the small house and that his body was no longer in enough pain to halt his movements like before as he got up and made a fast pace outside. He contemplated why his wounds didn't hurt as much anymore, growing up, his marks that he received from other boys in the village would hurt for what used to feel like weeks at a time. However, the pain in his back seemed to be almost as good as gone, even though he knew otherwise.

When he closed the door to the home behind him, the first thing that caught his attention was the sound of music and laughter in the inn nearby. Curiosity overtook him, and he made a quick walk over to the inn. As he opened the door, the thick scent of beer and sweet rolls invaded his nostrils as his stomach began to growl in response. The inn had almost everyone in the village inside, many of which were singing and dancing while getting plastered from the alcohol they were drinking. Their faces red and smiles wide. He could even spot Stump in the distance, lazily sitting there as he watched the villagers dance around drunkenly. Many of the villagers of Riverwood noticed Ahmes enter and raised their drinks while cheering of his arrival. Ahmes looked around through the crowd before someone rested their arm over Ahmes' shoulder. He turned his head and saw Dorthe with a drunken look on her face smile at him and laughed. Ahmes could smell the alcohol come out of her breathe when she laughed heartily.

"Hey Ahmes! Where've you been?" she asked in a slurred voice. Ahmes faintly smiled, "Remember? I have been sleeping ever since that incident with the troll," he said, laughing at the state of his friend. She looked up in thought, Ahmes could see the wheels in her head turn before she snapped her fingers when she could recall.

"Oh that's right! Ahmes, you were so cool when you attacked that troll head on. You were like 'Ahhhhhhhh' and the troll was all like, 'noooooooo'," she slurred while making exaggerated hand motions.

"What's the occasion? Everybody's celebrating," he asked before Dorthe laughed and slammed her hand into Ahmes' back. Ahmes had almost toppled over from the force of the friendly gesture of the young woman before regaining his bearings. Dorthe laughed heartily as she looked at her friend's lack of composure.

"Were celebrating you, dumbass! With that troll gone, nothing can get in the way of our hunting, and our crops will be safe! And it's all thanks to you!" she yelled as she took another gulp from her bottle of mead.

"Say…how about you and me, get to know each other a little better," she said in a sultry voice. Ahmes' mind had completely shut down from her suggestion and his face had gotten completely red. Dorthe had started to push her body against Ahmes' as she wrapped her arms around Ahmes' neck. Ahmes looked away from her in order to hide the embarrassment from his face.

"D-Dorthe, you're drunk. Y-You don't want to make any poor decisions right now," he stuttered. Dorthe's face broke into a sly smile,

"You don't know that, I have never felt better in my life," she slurred. She leaned into Ahmes' ear and whispered, "So how about we go and make a stupid decision together?" she asked seductively before biting his earlobe lightly. Ahmes had absolutely no idea what to do at the moment and in complete honesty, he wasn't completely opposed to the idea. But he made a promise to not only himself, but also to Frodnar that he wouldn't do anything, especially since she was under the influence of alcohol. _Where is Frodnar anyway?_ Ahmes asked himself. He looked over to his right and in the far corner he could see Frodnar passed out with writing on him with Gods knows what. _Well shit, Frodnar,_ Ahmes thought with a tired groan. He looked back to Dorthe and the look in her eyes screamed of lust and the desire to lay with him for the night. _If she is going to look at me like that, it's gonna make it harder to deny her,_ he thought before shaking those thoughts out of his mind.

"I'm sorry Dorthe, but I can't," he said before a look of confusion and sadness etched itself on her face. In less than a moment, that look was replaced with frustration and anger.

"What, am I not good enough for you?" she asked in an angry slur. Ahmes put his hands up,

"No, that's not it. I-" Dorthe released herself from him and stormed out the inn before Ahmes could explain himself. He made another tired sigh, _Well shit, now she hates me,_ he thought. He turned towards the door and followed her before she could do anything reckless, and to apologize. He had never seen Dorthe act like this before. He quickly assumed it was the alcohol confusing her thoughts, but why did she act like that towards him? Why not Frodnar? Wouldn't she be more inclined to try to seduce him? Ahmes knew Dorthe wasn't the type of person to throw herself at men at any chance she got. And he knew that she had gotten drunk plenty of times before. He shook all of his thoughts away, _no, I have to take care of Dorthe, her emotional state is what is important right now,_ he thought.

When he opened the door he was met with the sight of a crying Dorthe sitting on the stairs of the inn. Ahmes sighed again, and sat down next to her. She didn't turn, and could already tell who it was that sat next to her.

"You know, when I was a kid, my mom used to say to act more lady-like, but I always said 'That's just stupid girl talk'," she said before laughing lightly.

"She said that I wouldn't get a man if I acted like a boy, and I never listened. Who would've known she was gonna be right," she said with melancholy in her voice. Ahmes looked at her sympathetically,

"No Dorthe, that isn't true. A lot of guys would be happy to be with you," Ahmes explained as Dorthe turned to him with a glare,

"Then why is it I never get anywhere with men!? Why is it the one time I actually try to be with someone, they reject me?" she asked with tears threatening to fall down her face. She paused and sniffled, "Why is it no one loves me?" Ahmes ran a hand through his hair, feeling terrible and guilty for making her feel this way. Ahmes had actually cared about Dorthe, she was the first real friend Ahmes ever had. In fact, she was his best friend, but he made a promise.

"Look, you aren't ugly and you are a great person. Don't ever let anyone make you think otherwise or make you think you have to be different from who you are. The reason I said no to you wasn't because you weren't attractive or you weren't girly enough. Trust me, you make it really hard to say no, but I promised someone that I wouldn't do anything with you. And I definitely won't take advantage of you," Ahmes said while rubbing Dorthe's back to comfort her. Dorthe looked up at Ahmes in confusion,

"Really? Who?," she asked. Ahmes shook his head, "I promised not to tell," he said defiantly. Dorthe started to pout,

"Then how can I tell if you're lying or not?" she asked, not believing in what Ahmes was saying. Ahmes rose his hands up in defense,

"No really! Do you really think I would lie to you?" he asked sincerely. Dorthe looked back down to the wooden stairs and shook her head with a small smile on her face.

"There's that smile. You look way better with a smile than with a frown," Ahmes said with a wide smile. Dorthe looked back up to Ahmes, looking back and forth between his smile and his eyes.

"Thanks Ahmes, you really know what to say," she said with a small blush. Ahmes smiled lightly, he never really thought he had the right things to say. He was always afraid that he would say the wrong thing, and was glad that his inner self was wrong for once.

Ahmes stood up from the stairs and placed his hand out for Dorthe to grab on to, "C'mon lets go back inside, you must be freezing out here," he said carefully leading Dorthe back inside. When they got back inside, most of the villagers were either knocked out or singing with plastered expressions on their faces. Dorthe and Ahmes laughed as they looked at all the people who had drunken themselves out cold and proceeded to draw on their faces and pull little pranks on them while they slept. For the first time in a long time, Ahmes was truly having fun and for Ahmes, it was one of the greatest nights of his life.

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A few days later, Ahmes decided it was time to head out to Whiterun, and tell the Jarl of his experience in the battle against the Shadow. If he told the Jarl about it and proved that he was the last survivor, hopefully the Jarl will take notice and do something about it. _I have to try at least_ , he thought, _I owe it to all the people lost their lives to the Shadow._ Alvor and his wife had packed a few pounds of venison for his trip, and he was given multiple sets of clothes to last him the journey. He had his pack strapped to his back, a bow on his shoulder, and a sword hung on his hip. He now stood facing the family and a few friends that had helped him recover the past week, and he knew that he had make some new friends that would last a lifetime. "Well, I guess this is it. I really can't thank you enough, you all have done so much for me," Ahmes said as he looked at each of them with a hint of remorse and gratitude in his voice. "It should be us who is thanking you for helping us with that frost troll, without your help, we would be starving for weeks," Alvor said as he grasped Ahmes' hand in a strong handshake. "It was nothing, anyone would've done the same in my position, besides killing that troll was only possible through everyone's efforts," he said with a smile while looking back at Dorthe for a moment. He then turned to Sigrid, "Thank you for helping me get back on my feet, without your help, I might still be weak in that bed," Ahmes said as Sigrid gave him a gentle hug. He then turned to Frodnar, "Hey, look after Dorthe, she's a handful," Ahmes said as Dorthe yelled at him, pretending to be offended. Frodnar scoffed, "Didn't need you to tell me that," he replied as Dorthe slapped him in the back of the head. They all laughed as Frodnar grasped Ahmes' arm with a mutual respect, "Take care of yourself out there," he said in a serious tone. Ahmes broke out into a big grin as he nodded enthusiastically. Ahmes then turned to Dorthe and smiled warmly, "Hey, make sure to-," Ahmes was interrupted as Dorthe pulled him into a giant bear hug and he squeezed back as tightly as he could. "Be safe," she said softly. He nodded with tears in his eyes while she pulled away and pulled out a large brown sack in front of her. "I almost forgot to give you this. I told you that I would make you my greatest masterpiece. I finally finished it last night," she said as she handed the brown sack to Ahmes, "Go on, open it," she said, excited about what was inside the sack. Ahmes carefully removed the old, brown sack to reveal a one handed steel sword. This particular sword was the most finely crafted steel Ahmes had ever laid eyes on. The steel shined in the sunlight as it was newly made. Ahmes moved it closer to his face to get a better look at it. This sword had rugged designs on the bottom edge, and the hilt appeared to be made of fine wood, with metal woven into it. The base of the blade had complex line patterns, with some dark grey areas. In the middle of the blade, a language Ahmes had never seen before was inscribed into the blade. "What does it say?" he asked while trying to figure out what language it was written in. "It was supposed to say, 'No matter how far apart we may be, I will be right beside you' in the ancient Nordic Language, but the stupid translator messed it up," she said before being engulfed by a bear hug. Ahmes never had anyone do something so nice for him. He could tell the blade had been made to be just as strong as elven metal, and that was no easy task. As he pulled away, his eyes began to teat up, but he quickly wiped them away with his arm before they could travel down his face. He unsheathed his sword, inspecting the craftsmanship. He then sheathed his new sword in his scabbard after reading the inscription again before giving his old sword to Dorthe, ' **Qeb Aoxdlkylok fp xifsb.** ' "Here, this sword was the sword I used in the fight against the Shadow. Now you have the only sword to ever see the Shadow and come back," he said as tears threatened to come down Dorthe's eyes as he handed her the old, worn blade. "I really don't know what to say besides, thank you, all of you. I will never forget any of you," he said with a wide smile decorating his face. He made a deep inhale as he turned around and made his way forward. He looked back every couple of steps and saw them waving goodbye. With each step, his will to move forward lessened and his desire to stay increased. The only thing that stopped him was his resolve to get to Whiterun, and he would be damned if they saw him be a coward now. He started to run forward, awaiting anything that came his way now. While Ahmes' figure became smaller in the distance, Dorthe turned to her father, "Do you think we should've let him borrow a horse?"

He had absolutely no idea what to do. Surrounding him was a pack of wolves with stomachs that told him that they haven't had anything to eat for a while. _It had to be wolves,_ he thought as he slashed his sword at one of the wolves that tried to pounce on him. _Ok one down, four to go._ The wolves ran around him, ready to attack any opening he gave them. He made sure to keep his attention on all their movements, knowing one mistake meant death. One wolf got behind him and attempted to bite at his leg. Ahmes anticipated this and jumped forward, barely dodging the wolf's bite. Ahmes then proceeded to cut at the face of the wolf that tried to bite his leg off, and sliced its head off clean. _Man this sword has a really good edge, my compliments to the chef,_ he joked inwardly as he dodged another pounce and slice the front paws of his attacker. _Ok, three to go,_ he thought, making sure to keep his eye on the other two. The wolves took a step back before turning and retreating, knowing that they wouldn't win a fight with just the three of them. _Those wolves are smarter than they look,_ he thought as he sheathed his weapon away, only to hear a large bear roar and proceed to charge at him. _Oh they were running away from the bear…OH SHIT!_ He screamed internally as he started to sprint for his life away from the bear. _Oh shit I have to lose this guy somehow,_ he thought as he looked for a way to distract the bear long enough to make an escape. Nothing was coming to mind and Ahmes began to panic, _Shit-shit-shit-SHIT this is bad, c'mon Ahmes, think think think,_ he thought before turning around and trying to make himself look as big as possible. The bear simply stopped and looked at him in confusion for a moment before charging at him again with even more speed than before. _Shit that was supposed to work!_ He screamed internally as he went back to sprinting. He had started to lose speed as exhaustion was catching up to him. As the bear began to get closer and closer, an arrow flew past Ahmes and hit the bear straight in the left eye. The bear roared in pain as Ahmes used the opportunity to run to safety. Ahmes never had the chance to see nor thank his savior, but he prayed to as many deities as he could think of for sparing his life.

Eventually Ahmes had finally saw the large castle of Dragonsreach, and made a giant sigh of relief. _Thank the gods, I finally made it._ As he walked to the front gates, two guards unsheathed their blades and pointed them at him. "Halt! You there! Who are you?! State your business!" he yelled as his sword pointed directly to Ahmes' face. _Great to see the people of Whiterun are as welcoming as I thought they would be._ Ahmes thought sarcastically as he raised his hands to the air. "My name is Ahmes, I wish to speak to the Jarl," Ahmes said in a calm tone. The guards made no intention of lowering their blades. "How are we to know you are here to assassinate the Jarl for the Thalmor?," one of the guards asked with his blade pointing accusingly. "Has security actually been this tight since the Second Great War? I remember hearing tales of a time Whiterun was accessible to almost all," Ahmes said in a sarcastic tone. The guards looked at each other and then back to Ahmes, "Why do you wish to seek audience with Jarl Frothar?" the other guard asked. "I have an important message to give to him," Ahmes said. "If it as message you wish to give, then we can give it to him for you," the guard replied. "I apologize, but this message can only be for the Jarl's ears," Ahmes said, hoping that he wouldn't have to explain more. The guards didn't move an inch, "What could possibly be so important that only the Jarl can hear it?" the guard asked. Ahmes sighed and figured he should try to tell them at least something, since they won't believe him if he doesn't. He wasn't even sure if they would believe him if he told them the truth. "It is about the Shadow," he said. "What about the Shadow?" the guard asked. "I know what makes the hunt for the Shadow so dangerous, and the Jarl has to know, please it is important," he pleaded. "And how can you possible know what is in the hunt? No one ever survives it to tell people what lies in it," the other guard said, not believing Ahmes. "Because…I had come from the hunt, and saw the Shadow. I was the only survivor," he said as the guards looked to each other before one of them passing through the gate. Ahmes had waited outside Whiterun for around twenty minutes with the guards sword pointed at his neck until the other guard walked back out of the gate. "The Jarl will see you, but no funny business. We will stay right behind you the entire time so you better not try anything," the other guard said as they both sheathed their swords and opened the gate.

Light had blinded Ahmes for a moment as he passed through the main gate of Whiterun. He rubbed his eyes as he quickly adjusted to the light. The guards had pushed him forward slightly, silently warning him to move forward. As Ahmes passed by the Plains District, various children ran past him and merchants shouted at people passing by to buy their products. Ahmes smiled lightly, he had always wanted to see the major city of Skyrim since he was a little boy. Tales of its large size and memorable legends always fascinated him. It was one of the main reasons he wanted to go on an adventure in the first place. As they passed by the Wind District, Ahmes made note on how quiet it seemed. No doubt this was the resident district, and most people were inside their homes. Eventually, they had started to make their way up the stairs into the Cloud District. As they walked up the stairs Ahmes looked to his right and immediately looked at Jorrvaskr. He had always loved the stories his mother would tell him about the Companions and their adventures. It was one of the things that made Whiterun stories that much more fun to him and would often dreamed of joining their ranks. He could hear the ramblings of an old preacher on the ground below him; the old man was wearing yellow robes and had been standing in front of a statue of Talos. He appeared to be in his eighties and have been talking almost complete nonsense the entire time. Ahmes wondered if the old man had been preaching for a long time, he didn't think so. There had been a time when the Empire made laws that had banned the worship of Talos. No doubt it had been the Thalmor's fault, so no one was surprise to see the Empire barely enforce the law. However, it was this law that was the final straw for many of the residents of Skyrim, and civil war broke loose. Well, it was at least one of the major reasons. No doubt there were many rising tensions between Skyrim and the Empire years before. However, when the Empire had defeated the Stormcloaks, they had continued to enforce that law until they had started their campaign against the Thalmor years later. Ever since the Second Great War begun, Talos worship had returned and all the focus had been put on the war.

They had opened the large wooden doors of the large castle and Ahmes had entered Dragonsreach. Inside, Ahmes looked upon the Great Hall. There were two long tables on each side of the main chamber and a central fire place that illuminated the room. There were balconies on the upper floor, where very few nobles peered down from above. The head of Numinex adorned the great hall above the Jarl's throne and, the Jarl sat while listening to the whining of a young woman in an emerald dress with long curly brown hair, no doubt the curls weren't made naturally. The emerald dress had looked extravagant and had a gold lining on the bottom of it. The woman had an angry glare and large amounts of makeup covered the entirety of her face. The man sitting on the throne was none other than Jarl Frothar. He had messy brown hair that had reached his shoulders and a small brown beard adorns his face. A gold and ruby circlet sat upon his head and he was wearing noble clothes and fur linen boots. A small axe rested on one side of him while a small sword tested on the other. He had been massaging his temples as the woman kept prattling on about a dress she had wanted. "I'm so angry! You have promised me a new dress three days ago, now where is it?" she asked in an angry tone while tapping her foot with her arms crossed. "Making a dress takes a long time, Dagny. You must be patient." The Jarl said with a tried voice. "But I don't want to be patient! I want my dress now! You promised!" The young woman yelled as she stomped her heel into the ground. One of the guards behind Ahmes spoke up, "My lord, this is the one who wished to speak with you," he said as the Jarl and the spoiled woman turned to his direction. The young woman instantly narrowed her eyes at Ahmes, no doubt judging him at first sight and placing herself above him. "We will talk about this later Dagny," The Jarl commander as she made a hmph and made way out of Dragonsreach's main gate. "I honestly only promised her the blasted dress to shut her up, I am trying to win a war and try and get rid of those bastard Horme bandits. Cant she see her dress has little significance?" he muttered to himself as Ahmes presented himself before him. "Do not worry on it much, brother, we have more important things to worry about," a man said as he placed his hand on the Jarl's shoulder. Ahmes didn't notice the man next to the Jarl when he had first entered. The man had slightly long brown hair, like his brother, only his was much lighter in comparison and his face didn't have a beard. He was wearing a heavy, steel plated armor and a large great sword rested on his back. No doubt this man was Nelkir, housecarl and half-brother to the Jarl of Whiterun. Ahmes had heard numerous stories of his skills as a swordsman and jouster. He had been reigned the undefeated champion of Whiterun, and continued to hold his title to this day. Ahmes had always been a fan of his growing up, the bastard son of Balgruuf rising through the ranks and becoming the housecarl to his brother. He had earned the respect of everyone in Whiterun.

"Yes, so you are the boy that my soldier told me about. So, you have a message for me about the Shadow? It is true that you have survived it? Are the Thalmor the ones controlling it?" The Jarl asked in a commanding tone. Ahmes had taken a knee and bowed his head. "Yes, my lord. It is true, I even have a scar on my back to prove it, although I am not sure if the Shadow has any allegiance," Ahmes answered politely. Both of the men's eyebrows have raised themselves slightly in disbelief. "Please, tell me what you saw," he commanded. Ahmes then reluctantly told him of his story of the black knight that resided in the Hunt. When his story was finished, the Jarl sat up from his throne and paced throughout the room. Ahmes could only stare at the floor in order to not seem disrespectful.

"I see, so this knight had black armor? Could you tell what metal it was made of? Deadric? Or Ebony perhaps?" he asked as Ahmes rose from his position. "I truly cannot give you a very accurate answer; I never got a very good look at what exactly his armor was made from. If I had to make a guess, I would most likely say Ebony, my lord," Ahmes said as he tried his best to remember and identify the armor the demon had worn, only to remember its red eyes and speed his own heart. "Hmm, what do you make of this Nelkir?" The Jarl asked as he turned to face him. Nelkir's face frowned as he tried to come up with a good answer. "Although I find it hard to believe the thing that has been killing all the people that were sent to the hunt was a single person, I do think sending more men to fight the Shadow is a terrible idea. No doubt the ordeal is almost impossible to survive through and sending more men to a lost cause is pointless," he said as the Jarl went back to thinking. "I am sorry my friend, but I must think about this a while. Please, make yourself home at the nearest inn. I will call for you when I have made a decision," he decided as Ahmes took a knee and gave him his thanks. Ahmes turned to leave as the men in the main chamber began to talk amongst themselves once more, no doubt about the war against the Thalmor and what they should do about the Shadow. Their voices began to become quiet as the doors behind Ahmes closed. Ahmes then made his way down the stairs of Dragonsreach and decided to look around in the market for anything he would need for the days to come.

TBIZLKB QL TEFQBORJ


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Greatness Waits

As he walked through the streets of Whiterun, the sounds of various merchants yelling at passersby's and the smell of cooking meat brought a nostalgic feeling in Ahmes. He could remember all the times him and his parents went out to buy things from merchants that would travel by their village and the children spending their allowances on wooden weapons to play with. It was times like these when he missed his old home, but he knew times like this were rare and he didn't know if he would ever have this kind of free time again.

A sudden shout of frustration filled the air and a voice called out, "Absurd! How is it you don't sell sweetrolls?" The voice yelled in a demanding voice. Ahmes turned towards the voice and instantly recognized it as Dagny's. "I'm sorry my lady, but we only sell vegetables and fruits. We don't have any sweetrolls," she said in a frightened yet apologetic tone. Dagny's lips twisted into a snarl as she knocked over all the food that was on the girl's bench. The girl made a whimpering sound as she knelt down and tried to pick up the food from the floor. The girl appeared to be around Dagny's age and she had pale skin and dark brown hair that went down to her waist. She wore ragged clothes with an old belt at her waist. The top of her outfit was a dark blue and appeared to be a little small for her. The bottom half of her outfit was a somewhat long white skirt that had turned darker from the dirt near the bottom of the skirt and went down to her shins. "Tch…Can't get any good sweetrolls, in this skeeverhole of a city," she said in disgust. As the girl tried to put the fruit back on the stand, Dagny simply tossed them back down again and stepped on her hand with her green heel when she tried to reach for more. Ahmes couldn't look anymore as he walked up to Dagny with fury in her eyes. "Hey! Leave her alone!" Ahmes yelled as Dagny turned to him and narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? One of the new servants? Remember that I like my meat rare," she said smugly as she continued to crush the poor girl's hand. Ahmes had become red with rage, not only had she disrespected him, but she wouldn't stop hurting the girl because she didn't sell sweetrolls, which in itself was ridiculous behavior. He grabbed her arm forcefully and turned her to him, "now you listen here, you spoiled brat! I have half the mind-," Ahmes was interrupted as a blade of a nearby guard placed his blade under Ahmes' chin. Dagny released the girl's hand and placed all her attention on Ahmes. "Half the mind to do what, peasant?" she asked. Ahmes looked around and noticed that all the merchants and passerby's put all their attention on him. He wanted to do something, anything, but with a blade next to his neck, he knew that any move will end up with an open throat. He sighed and let go of her arm. As soon as his grip loosened, the nearby guard sheathed his sword and punched Ahmes straight in the gut with enough force to make him breathless. He keeled over from the hit and fell down to his knees, heaving for air. Dagny began to laugh as she spat on Ahmes, "Maybe next time you watch your tongue around a lady," she said in a snarky tone as she walked away with her guards following her. Ahmes couldn't stand people like her, those who believed they were better than everyone else just because they had a higher social standing. It reminded him of his childhood, where most kids his age were like that because of their noble families. They would often bully him and send him home with bruises all over his body to a worried mother. This time, just like every other time, he kept his anger in check, to not let this bring him down, just like always.

A few moments later, Ahmes felt the pain in his chest go away and the girl he helped assisted him to get on his feet. "Are you okay? That looked like it hurt," she asked. Her voice was very soft, Ahmes noticed, probably one of the softest sounding voices he had ever heard. "I'm sorry about that; I shouldn't have let you get involved in a stranger's quarrel. My name is Mila. Mila Valentia," she said as she shook Ahmes' hand. Ahmes smiled as he released his hand and scratched the back of his head, "No it's ok, it's not your fault," he said. "Mila! Mila!," a voice behind her yelled as a boy that looked to be the same age as Mila ran up to her. "Are you alright? I was going to help you, but there were too many people in the way," the boy said as he tried to catch his breathes. Ahmes looked behind the boy and noticed that there was no crowd in the direction the boy came from. _He's lying, but why?_ He asked himself before realizing the answer to his own question. _He was too afraid to do anything,_ he realized. "It's alright Lars, I am alright," she said with a soft smile. Lars sighed in relief as he turned to Ahmes. "Thank you for helping Mila, Dagny has always treated everyone who wasn't related to the Jarl like dirt. No one ever wanted to be around Dagny, she's almost as bad as Braith," he said. Ahmes turned to Lars, "No problem, I don't like it when people treat others like dirt just because they think they are better than them," he said as he looked back at Dagny's retreating form in the distance. "Man, she is one really spoiled brat," Ahmes stated while placing his hands on his hips. "I know she can be mean, but she can be very nice sometimes, you just have to be patient with her," Mila said. Lars looked at Mila and smiled warmly, "Leave it to you to see the good in people Mila," Lars said while ruffling her hair a little bit then awkwardly pulled his hand away in embarrassment.

"Lars! Where did you go you big baby?" a voice called out from where Lars came from. Lars groaned as a red guard woman appeared from the same path Lars ran out from. The young woman had dark skin and hair with similar clothes to Mila, but this girl wore a frown on her face instead of Mila's soft smile and the top of her ragged clothing was red opposed to Mila's blue. "What have I told you idiot! You shouldn't just go on your own for no reason. And just who the hell are you?," Braith asked while pointing an accusing finger at Ahmes. Ahmes' smile twitched as he realized what Lars had meant. "My name is Ahmes and I-," he was again interrupted as Braith raised her finger and shook her head. "Y'know what, I don't care," she said as she turned to Lars. "C'mon Lars, Vilkas was looking for us," she said as she grabbed the back of Lars' collar and dragging him away from Mila and Ahmes. "Where is she taking him?" Ahmes asked. Mila looked outward to the direction of Jorrvaskr, "To the Companions, Braith and Lars joined them a few months back. I can tell Lars doesn't want anything to do with the Companions, he hates fighting, but everyone won't treat him like a man until he makes a name for himself there. They have been calling him a milk drinker ever since he was a little kid. They think if he joined the Companions, he will toughen up and become a man," Mila said with a hint of sadness. "And Braith joined the Companions with him; she said it was because she wanted to get tougher, but I think it's because Braith loves Lars," she continued with a small chuckle. "Lars is always too oblivious to the fact that Braith bullies him because she likes him. Thankfully, she doesn't bully him that much anymore," she said as she turned to Ahmes. "Do you really think that is why she treats him like that? Looked to me that she saw Lars as a burden," Ahmes replied. Mila shook her head and watched the two figures disappear into Jorrvaskr. "And do you think Lars likes her back? I mean, he didn't seem happy when she called for him,"

"He'll come around, he likes her. He just doesn't know it yet." "You sure about that?," Ahmes asked with laughter in his voice. She shrugged as she walked back behind her fruit stand. Ahmes walked into front of the stand, "Well, I guess I'll buy some apples for the road then," he said pulling out some coin from his pocket. "Why thank you sir," she said while pulling out two scarlet red apples, "Finest, on the house. Least I can do for your help," she said with a hint of laughter in her voice as Ahmes placed the Septims on the stand anyway. "No need for that miss, I would gladly give you the coin. You definitely deserve it after what Dagny to your hand," he said as he held up her slightly bruised hand and gave it a close look. Mila pulled her hand away with a soft blush and handed the two apples to Ahmes, "Thank you Ahmes, I really appreciate it," she said as she collected her coin. Ahmes smiled widely as he turned towards Jorrvaskr and started a slow jog after looking back and waving good bye to Mila. She waved him good bye and watched his figure disappear behind Jorrvaskr before placing a hand on her chest and sighing, "Ahmes, what a nice name."

QEB PEXALU ILLKP


End file.
